Sakura stepped into the room.
The door closed softly behind her.
For a moment, she simply stood there.
Books.
Every wall was covered in them.
Shelves stretched from floor to ceiling, packed with records, journals, and ancient tomes. Some looked older than kingdoms. Others appeared newly written.
At the center of the room sat a large desk.
And behind it sat a woman with silver hair.
She looked neither young nor old.
Not because she lacked age.
But because age seemed irrelevant to her.
The woman closed the book she had been reading and looked up.
Her silver eyes met Sakura's.
The room fell silent.
Several seconds passed.
Neither spoke.
Then the woman gestured toward the chair opposite her desk.
"Sit."
Sakura obeyed.
For some reason, refusing felt impossible.
The chair creaked softly as she sat down.
The Archivist studied her quietly.
Not with curiosity.
Not with suspicion.
More like someone examining a page they had seen before.
Finally, she spoke.
"Do you remember dying?"
The question struck like lightning.
Sakura froze.
Her mind immediately returned to that day.
The wedding.
The rain.
The accident.
Haruto's hand.
The light.
Then darkness.
Her fingers tightened around the blue stone hanging from her neck.
"...yes."
The Archivist nodded.
As though confirming something.
Not surprised.
Not shocked.
Simply certain.
"I thought so."
Sakura stared.
Nobody in this world should know that.
Nobody.
Yet the woman spoke as though it were ordinary.
"Who are you?" Sakura asked.
The silver-haired woman folded her hands.
"I am called the Archivist."
A title.
Not a name.
Sakura noticed immediately.
The woman smiled faintly.
"Most people never question that."
The answer only created more questions.
Unfortunately, Sakura had plenty already.
"How do you know about me?"
"I know many things."
That was not helpful.
The Archivist seemed aware of this.
"Knowledge is my profession."
"That's still not an answer."
"No."
The woman agreed.
"It isn't."
For a moment, Sakura wondered if every scholar in this world was secretly impossible to talk to.
Abel would probably get along with this woman.
The thought was oddly terrifying.
The Archivist stood and walked toward a nearby shelf.
After searching for a moment, she removed an old book.
The cover was worn.
The title had long since faded.
She returned to the desk and placed it between them.
"What do you see?"
Sakura looked down.
"A book."
"Correct."
The Archivist opened it.
Its pages were blank.
Every single one.
Sakura frowned.
"It's empty."
"Is it?"
The woman turned a page.
Words appeared.
Not gradually.
Not magically.
Simply there.
As though they had always existed.
Sakura blinked.
The writing described a merchant.
A small town.
A normal life.
Nothing unusual.
Then the Archivist turned another page.
A completely different story appeared.
Different people.
Different places.
Different events.
Another page.
Another story.
Another life.
Again and again.
The book never repeated itself.
Sakura watched silently.
Eventually, the Archivist closed it.
"Every person leaves behind a story."
She rested a hand atop the cover.
"Most are forgotten."
The room grew quiet.
"Some are remembered."
The woman's gaze shifted toward the countless shelves surrounding them.
"And a very small number become important."
Sakura wasn't sure where this was going.
The Archivist seemed to notice.
"You are searching for answers."
"Yes."
"Then allow me to ask one first."
The woman leaned forward slightly.
"What was the last thing you remember before arriving in the Endless Library?"
Sakura's eyes widened.
The Endless Library.
The name alone sent a chill through her.
Because she had never told anyone about it.
Not a single person.
Yet the Archivist spoke the words effortlessly.
As though discussing a place she knew well.
For the first time since entering Aurelis, Sakura felt something she had not felt before.
Not confusion.
Not uncertainty.
Hope.
Because if this woman knew about the Endless Library...
Then perhaps she also knew why Sakura had been sent there.
And perhaps—
just perhaps—
she knew something about Haruto.
"Answer me," the Archivist said calmly.
"What did you see before the library?"
Sakura lowered her gaze.
The memory surfaced immediately.
A hand.
Warm.
Familiar.
The person she had refused to forget.
"...Haruto."
The Archivist's expression changed.
Only slightly.
But Sakura noticed.
And for the first time, the woman seemed genuinely interested.
"Haruto," she repeated softly.
Then she opened a drawer.
And removed a notebook.
"Tell me everything."